


Claustrophobic

by et_cetera55



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/et_cetera55/pseuds/et_cetera55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to the <a href="http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/"><b>kinkme_merlin</b></a> prompt <i>Merlin has been captured by someone/something and confined in a small space. When Arthur gets him back, he cannot let Merlin out of his sight and keeps Merlin in his room doing tons of chores or keeps Merlin very close by at all times. Merlin feels like he is being contained, much like his captors did, and needs to get away. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Claustrophobic  
 **Author:** et_cetera55  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warnings:** Descriptions of panic attacks, confined spaces, explicit sexual encounters  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Word count:** ~15000  
 **Disclaimer:** I don’t own either of the boys (but yay for BBC and Shine who brought them to us).  
 **Summary:** Written in response to the [](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**kinkme_merlin**](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/) prompt _Merlin has been captured by someone/something and confined in a small space. When Arthur gets him back, he cannot let Merlin out of his sight and keeps Merlin in his room doing tons of chores or keeps Merlin very close by at all times. Merlin feels like he is being contained, much like his captors did, and needs to get away._

 

With a choked gasp Merlin’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t move, there was something heavy across his chest – he was trapped! His heart raced as it tried to pound its way out of his ribcage. His chest was so tight he couldn’t take a proper breath, could only take short, sharp, shallow ones.

As he looked around with wild eyes, trying to see where he was, trying to find an escape, the edges of his vision started to cloud. He couldn’t choke in the air fast enough, his whole body rocking with every shuddering gasp. Everything was going black…

“Sssh, Merlin. It’s ok. You’re safe.”

He knew that voice, knew somehow it was good. But he couldn’t place it, couldn’t concentrate on it – he was unable to think of anything except the pain in his chest and his desperate hunger for air. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to dispel the blackness.

“Merlin,” the voice came again, low and insistent.

Merlin’s torso tensed even more, in preparation for the pain. But none came. Instead the weight on his chest was suddenly lifted.

“Merlin. Listen to me. It’s Arthur.”

Arthur. The fog in his head slowly started to clear. Arthur was here…

“Merlin. Come back. You’re safe now.”

Merlin found he could slow his breathing a fraction as the muscles in his chest relaxed ever so slightly. His vision started to clear and he began to recognise his surroundings – he could see an ornately carved wardrobe, a heavy wooden door, a stone fireplace with glowing embers.

“Merlin? Can you look at me?”

Arthur! Merlin quickly flipped over onto his other side, ignoring the dull pains in his air-deprived muscles. He found himself lying face to face with Arthur, concern painted on the prince’s every feature.

Arthur put one hand on Merlin’s arm and started to rub his thumb over it gentle.

“Merlin. It’s ok. You need to calm down,” Arthur’s voice was low and hushed. Somewhere deep in his thoughts Merlin recognised it as the tone the prince employed with fractious horses. Arthur started rubbing Merlin’s arm with his whole hand, slowly, reassuringly.

“Ssssh. Breathe with me Merlin. In… out… in… out…”

Merlin followed his instructions. At first it was incredibly painful and many breaths came prematurely, snatching at the air, but eventually he managed to slow them down until his head fully cleared and only the memory of the fear he had experienced remained.

It had happened again. Again Arthur had seen him be so totally helpless, totally pathetic. And now the tears came, trickling in burning streams down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” he cried over and over. Apologising for being so weak, for being such a burden to Arthur, for everything.

Arthur said nothing, just gathered Merlin into his arms and pulled him close in. Merlin’s forehead pressed against the prince’s muscled chest and Arthur’s chin rested on Merlin’s hair. Arthur’s arms started slowly rubbing large circles over his back and Merlin gave up on holding onto any shred of dignity and just sobbed.

 

 

_They had known. Whoever it was that had lain in wait for him and the prince had known about his magic._

_He and Arthur had been out hunting – well Arthur was hunting, Merlin was just getting bored. Suddenly Arthur had reined his horse to a halt, and it was only because Merlin’s horse was paying attention, even though its rider wasn’t, that Merlin stopped too._

_“Ssh Merlin!” Arthur had snapped in a whisper. “Listen.”_

_Merlin couldn’t hear anything and had said so._

_“Exactly,” said Arthur grimly. Merlin had pulled a face, confused._

_He hadn’t been confused for long as all around them men had leapt out of the bushes, charging towards them. Arthur had fought back with his horse and sword, Merlin with spells and curses. But there had been too many of them. Merlin could remember the moment he realised that all of the men were aimed at him, the exact moment when fear chilled his heart._

_The rest of the fight was a blur. He vaguely remembered Arthur being knocked off his horse and kicked brutally where he lay on the floor. But not much else. Except he did remember with crystal clarity that when the first men reached him. They had pulled him off his horse, shoving him face down in the dirt, and something cold and metallic was snapped around both of his wrists. He had tried to scream as a searing pain burst through him but had choked on the mud in his mouth. His magic was gone! It had been ripped from him by whatever was around his wrists. The agonising pain shot through to his very core. It felt like it was tearing him apart. He must then have blacked out._

_When he came to he was lying on his side, his arms still shackled behind him, his head pounding and the sharp pain having dulled to an insistent throb. At first he had thought he was blind – all he could see was black, and he had flicked his eyes about wildly until he saw a pinprick of light. Ok, so not blind, just somewhere very dark. He had tried to sit up, but his head had barely moved inches when the side of his head bumped into something very solid. He pushed his hands out behind him. Again, they met resistance only a few inches away from where they had been lying. With a sickening feeling he slowly moved his knees forwards… and found he was equally confined on that side. Trapped. He had tried to keep calm, tried desperately not to panic…_

 

 

A soft kiss placed on his lips pulled Merlin back to reality. Arthur’s brilliant blue eyes were filled with worry. Merlin offered him a small smile and was rewarded with a huge one from Arthur in return.

“You’re back,” Arthur sighed with relief.

Merlin nodded in reply, still not sure if he was ready to speak. Arthur’s smile broadened and Merlin’s thoughts were dragged back from his pain by this breath-taking sight. He was lying in bed with his handsome prince. His own smile became a bit more real.

And they just lay there, Arthur running his fingers through Merlin’s hair, and Merlin stroking the fair ones on Arthur’s chest, until the sun started to rise above the horizon.

“I suppose we had better get up,” Arthur didn’t sound too keen.

“Mmrfgh,” was the only reply Merlin made.

“I know,” Arthur sighed, wearily, “but you know we have to. We can’t afford to let rumours get back to my father.”

“Yes, yes. Ok,” Merlin groaned as he stretched, trying to loosen his aching muscles. He rolled out of bed, hissing slightly as the cold air hit his skin. He padded quickly across the room to the wardrobe. He rummaged around in the back of it until he found a clean set of clothes he had hidden there. He dressed quickly, trying not to wince as the material caught on his healing wounds and pressed against his bruises – he knew Arthur would be scrutinising him intensely. When he was fully dressed he turned back to face Arthur once more,

“I’ll go get your breakfast _sire_ ” he said, trying hard to lighten the tone, to bring back the banter they had shared before he had been… before _it_ happened.

Arthur obviously appreciated the attempt as he rolled his eyes and said, “Try not to spill it this time!” Merlin gave a slight mocking bow and turned round to leave.

 

*****

 

Arthur watched unhappily as Merlin left. When the door shut he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Every night Merlin woke with a panic attack. Every night! Gasping and choking and crying! And Arthur felt completely useless.

He wanted to wrap Merlin up, to smother him with kisses and promises to keep him safe for ever. But this was Merlin. And their relationship had never been like that. It had always been full of mocking taunts and teasing insults, not words of tenderness and gestures of comfort. They had only started sharing a bed after Merlin had come back looking so lost and scared. Not that Arthur objected.

He did hate that they had to get up so abruptly, that Merlin had to sneak out like a thief. But Arthur was fairly sure his father had not believed Arthur when he had said that it was just happy coincidence that his five day long hunting trip with Sir Leon and a few other loyal knights happened to be at exactly the time that Merlin managed to escape from his captors. If his father found out they were sharing a bed the best outcome Merlin could expect was banishment.

Arthur slowly dragged himself out of bed and started to dress, still fretting about Merlin. The gashes on the boy’s body were not healed and even his clothes and neckerchief could not cover all of the ugly purple bruises. He hated making Merlin leave his room, exposing him to the scrutiny of the castle. He hated the way the other servants looked at Merlin with concern and pity. He wanted to scream that Merlin was a powerful sorcerer, that their faces should show fear and respect, not pity. And when they asked Merlin quietly if he was ok, or told him they were glad he was back and Merlin smiled that tight-lipped smile, his eyes filling with unshed tears, Arthur could feel his own heart break that little bit more.

Shrugging into his jacket, Arthur tried to come up with yet another list of chores for Merlin. He knew he couldn’t just offer his room as a sanctuary to Merlin, tell him to stay in it – Merlin had too much pride. So he had resorted to coming up with as many chores as possible to provide a legitimate excuse for Merlin to avoid the rest of the castle. Not that there was much left to do any more…

 

*****

 

Merlin watched as Arthur left for the practice field to go and train his knights. He heaved a sigh of relief that he no longer had to keep up the ‘I’m fine’ charade that he had been employing since he got up (to what success he didn’t know). Now it didn’t matter if he looked how he felt – like he was about to fall apart.

He started to run through the chore list in his head: there were the usual ones like make the bed, sweep the room, and so on... and then a whole host of others including cleaning the windows and sorting out the mess of things under the bed. He’d done the windows only two days ago – they really didn’t need to be done again already! Clearly Arthur’s sympathy didn’t extend to lightening his work load. (Merlin did have to concede though that under the bed needed sorting – both of them had a habit of just kicking things under it when they couldn’t be bothered to put them away properly.)

He knew all of these tasks were his job as Arthur’s manservant, and normally he wouldn’t object (apart from the usual grumbling to Arthur just to make sure he was fully appreciated) but at the moment he was finding them all… frustrating. He hadn’t been outside since Arthur had brought him back, he hadn’t had time. He felt… confined… A feeling he really didn’t need right now.

Merlin shook his head, trying to clear it, and set about the first task. He knew that if he could just force himself to concentrate properly, to focus on his chores, he could blank out the memories, could even suppress the flashbacks… most of the time.

The morning dragged slowly by. Merlin was actually feeling quite proud of the number of tasks he had finished. Yes he would have done more before… it… when he could have used his magic, but now it was still weak so he had to do everything by hand.

He had finished washing the windows and so now he turned his attention to the bed with a grimace. He got down beside it on hands and knees and lowered his head to look under it – in the darkness he could see the irregular outline of various unidentifiable objects. Well he had better make a start. He lifted one hand from the floor and started to reach under the bed for the nearest item. But it stopped almost of its own accord. Merlin could feel his heartbeat start to quicken and the muscles around his ribcage tense. This was ridiculous – it was just Arthur’s bed! He could do this…

Hand trembling slightly Merlin gritted his teeth and slowly reached into the darkness…

_Merlin felt the ground shift beneath him and then start to rock backwards and forwards – the cell he was in was being moved. He tried to swallow down the anxiety that he had felt. His only hope was that Arthur was ok. That Arthur had managed to escape. He clenched his fists behind his back and tried to control his shallow breathing._

…as soon as his hand touched the material Merlin quickly grabbed at it and yanked his arm out, almost falling over in his haste. He rocked back on his heels, staring at the clothing in his hands, but not really seeing it. He took a deep breath. He could do this. He would put the clothing away later. He wanted to get this over with. He knelt forward and slowly reached under again.

Slowly, painfully slowly Merlin worked his way around the bed, reaching under with his hand, trying to ignore the memories each stretch triggered. Eventually he had gone all the way round and pulled out everything within his reach. That just left the items under the centre of the bed. He _would_ do this.

Gritting his teeth, Merlin ignored the pounding of his heart and lay flat down on the floor at right angles to the bed. He shuffled so that his head was just outside the edge of the bed and stretched out with both of his arms. He still couldn’t reach the things. His chest was so tight now that Merlin’s breathing was fast and shallow, and dark spots started to swirl in front of his eyes. He tentatively shuffled himself forwards again…

_It must have been hours now and Merlin still hadn’t been let out. He still didn’t understand why he had been taken or where he was going. He could see nothing, hear nothing. All he knew was that he was being carried for long periods of time before being dropped unceremoniously. All too soon he was picked up again and the movement started once more._

_The box was stuffy now, the tiny holes far too small to allow fresh air in. It smelt of sweat and the piss that Merlin had been unable to contain any longer. Initially Merlin had been ashamed about that, but now terror had replaced any shame he had felt._

_He didn’t know how much longer he could take this – and then realised he had no choice. He would have to take it for as long as whoever had done this decided he would. He was completely powerless._

…It was too much. Merlin couldn’t face the flashbacks any longer. He fled from the room, slamming the door behind him and running through the corridors, blinded by his tears. All he knew was that he had to get out! Get out of this stone prison! He needed fresh air!

He burst out of the door into the sunlight, gasping in the fresh air. His legs felt like they were about to collapse but he forced them to keep running, out of the gateway, through the town. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to see the stares directed at him.

Merlin didn’t stop until he was out of the town, into the woods where he had collected plants for Gaius. Finally he felt free! He sank down to the ground, leaning his back gratefully against a tree. His arms and legs were shaking violently and hot tears still trickled down his face.

 

*****

 

Arthur, sweaty from training, gauntlets still in hand, threw open the door to his chamber, a smile ready for Merlin. But Merlin wasn’t there. He looked around the room – it was mostly tidy. Merlin had clearly finished most of his chores. But the area around the bed was cluttered with clothes, some odd boots, a goblet…

“Merlin?”

Surely even if the boy was under the bed he would have heard Arthur come in and at least shouted out a greeting. Arthur walked over to the bed and crouched down, tilting his head to look underneath it. No sign of Merlin. But why had he left with the job only half done? The perimeter of the area under the bed had been cleared, but there was still plenty of stuff under the middle of the bed. Really! All Merlin had to do was crawl under and reach… crawl under…

“Dammit!”

Arthur’s bitter curse was accompanied by a pair of gauntlets flying across the room, smashing a vase…

 

*****

 

As Merlin opened the door he saw with surprise Arthur’s gauntlets lying strewn on the floor, surrounded by shards of vase. His gaze scanned across the room until it rested on Arthur. The prince was standing, leaning over the fireplace, head bowed. He slowly turned his face towards the door and Merlin was shocked to see that Arthur’s eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them puffy and red, contrasting with the rest of his face which was practically white.

They remained just staring at each other, frozen in position, until Arthur broke the tension,

“Merlin. I’m so sorry.” The prince’s voice sounded hoarse, broken.

Merlin was about to ask what on earth could Arthur be sorry for? But then Arthur’s eyes slid to look in the direction of the bed… and Merlin understood. The prince had figured out what had happened, how pathetic Merlin had been. Humiliation flooded through Merlin.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Arthur looked temporarily confused, but annoyance soon settled on his features.

“Will you…” the prince started, frustration ringing in his voice, before he abruptly stopped. Taking a deep breath he turned his whole body towards Merlin and started again, “Merlin. Sit down.” He gestured to the chair in front of the fire. Merlin walked slowly towards it and sat down, dreading what Arthur had to say to him.

“Merlin. This has to stop.”

Merlin hadn’t thought he could feel any worse, but apparently he could. Clearly Arthur was finally fed up with him being so pathetic – and Merlin could hardly blame him. He bowed his head,

“I’m sorry. I really am Arthur. I’m trying not to… not to be so weak.” Merlin shut his eyes, wishing he could disappear into the floor. But at a… well it was almost a growl from the prince, Merlin couldn’t help but look up at him again.

“That is _exactly_ what I mean Merlin!” The frustration was creeping back in. “Stop apologising! Stop saying sorry for things you can’t help!”

Merlin looked surprised.

Arthur dropped to his knees in front of his manservant, his hands coming to rest on top of Merlin’s. He continued softly,

“It was not your fault, what happened. It is not your fault that you still suffer. Please. Merlin. Please stop _blaming_ yourself.”

Merlin bit his bottom lip as he saw Arthur’s eyes glistening in the firelight.

“I don’t… I…” Merlin fumbled for the right words.

“Merlin, what happened to you… you can’t expect things to go back to normal straight away.” Merlin watched as Arthur studied his face intently. The prince lowered his brow in a slight frown.

“I don’t expect them to. You know that don’t you?”

And suddenly it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from Merlin’s chest. Arthur wasn’t annoyed that he was being so useless…

“You didn’t did you?” Arthur challenged, sounding exasperated. Merlin simply shrugged. In response Arthur knelt up towards Merlin, tilting his head to one side slightly. Merlin lowered his head down into the kiss, giving a soft sigh as Arthur’s lips caught his own. Arthur took one of his hands off Merlin’s and started to trail his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone. Merlin slid himself off the chair and joined Arthur kneeling on the stone floor. The bruises on his knees were protesting at this position so Merlin drew back from the kiss, tenderly laced his fingers through Arthur’s, and shuffled over to the thick fur rug in front of the fire, pulling Arthur with him.

A flash of disappointment flitted across Arthur’s face as Merlin drew back but he soon understood what Merlin was doing and followed him eagerly. When they were both settled on the rug the kiss resumed with greater intensity. Merlin licked gently over Arthur’s lips until they were parted and Arthur’s tongue gently teased his own. Arthur gently placed a palm flat against Merlin’s chest and applied the slightest of pressure. Merlin moaned with delight and anticipation as he shuffled his legs out from underneath him. Arthur’s mouth never left Merlin’s, their tongues intertwining, as he gently guided him down until Merlin found himself lying flat on the rug with Arthur straddling him.

 

Arthur tore himself away from the kiss and knelt up, his legs either side of Merlin’s narrow hips. He searched in Merlin’s face for any sign of unease. He had barely let himself touch Merlin in the last few days, not wanting to trigger any more bad memories. But Merlin’s face showed only pleasure and anticipation, his pupils blown wide with desire.

Arthur leant down into him once more, revelling in the familiar scent – musky with a hint of some herb that Arthur didn’t know the name of. His lips met Merlin’s once more and heat flared through him as Merlin ground his hips between Arthur’s legs. Arthur pulled back from Merlin’s mouth and started placing hot, wet kisses along Merlin’s jaw and down the side of his neck where he could feel Merlin’s pulse racing. He paused – was it racing because Merlin was enjoying himself? Or was he starting to panic? A frustrated moan followed by a breathy,

“Please Arthur! Please don’t stop!” answered his question and Arthur set about trailing kisses over Merlin’s neck once more, prevented from going any lower by his neckerchief. As Merlin’s hands started to run over Arthur’s chest and along his sides Arthur varied the kisses with small nibbles and licks as he tasted Merlin’s skin, salty with the sheen of sweat that now covered him, glistening in the firelight.

Arthur found himself growling,  
“Merlin! You’re obviously far too hot! This…” he tugged at the frustrating neckerchief, “has to go.”

As Merlin lifted himself up slightly and started fumbling with the knot Arthur turned his attention to the rest of Merlin’s clothes. They all, he decided, had to come off. Merlin took his hands away from his neck, neckerchief in one hand, and Arthur took advantage of the moment and pulled Merlin’s jacket off before he could protest. Apparently he needn’t have worried as Merlin’s eyes darkened further with desire and he started trying to get Arthur’s jacket off even as Arthur was trying to prise Merlin’s shirt off. A few moments of jumbled limbs and a hiss of pain from Merlin as Arthur knocked against a bruise and Arthur decided it would be much more efficient (and safer) if he tended to his own clothing. Merlin had evidently come to the same conclusion as he started to unlace his breeches.

Arthur had his shirt over his head which was the only reason he had been knocked off balance as Merlin pushed him. He pulled his shirt off and glared in jest at Merlin, who just raised an eyebrow and said,

“I can’t get my breeches off with your great weight on me! Prat!”

“Idiot!” Arthur replied as he resisted the urge to take a swipe at him, choosing instead to merely roll his eyes. He did move though, quickly unlacing his own breeches and tugging them off.

When he turned back to Merlin his breath caught in his throat. He had still not got used to how – well, frankly _beautiful_ Merlin was, and the sight of him lying back on the rug, naked, the light from the fire dancing over him, smiling invitingly at Arthur filled Arthur with overwhelming desire.

Arthur straddled him once more and ran his fingers over Merlin’s chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin, the softness of the dark hair that lightly dusted that area. The ever-changing shadows cast by the fire almost obscured the bruises. Arthur could almost ignore them, pretend they weren’t there. His fingers trailed further down until they were almost touching a mark that no shadows would cover: a red, angry line of skin that scored down the right side of Merlin’s rib cage.

Arthur hadn’t realised he was frowning until he heard,

“Arthur? Please?” His eyes immediately flicked to Merlin’s face. He looked… frustrated. “Not now…” Merlin continued with a small groan.

Arthur was temporarily confused but Merlin started grinding his hips under Arthur once more and the responding twitch in his cock reminded him what he had been doing. He lowered himself slowly down, holding himself just above Merlin, to avoid putting too much weight on that fragile ribcage, smirking slightly as he saw Merlin gazing at his taut muscles in appreciation. He lowered himself down slightly more, so that now his groin was against Merlin’s, his cock hard against Merlin’s own, equally hard shaft.

“Arthur!” Merlin moaned quietly as he started bucking his hips upwards, rubbing his cock against Arthur’s. It took all of Arthur’s concentration to stop himself from coming there and then. Gods he had missed this!

 

A knock at the door caused them both to freeze.

“Sire?” a voice called through the door.

“What is it? I don’t want to be disturbed.” Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle to hear the frustration in Arthur’s voice.

“The Lady Morgana sent me to remind you that you are dining with her and the King this evening.”

Arthur cursed quietly under his breath before calling out,

“I was aware… but please thank her for reminding me.”

Merlin smirked, feeling quite pleased with himself that Arthur had been so caught up in what they were doing that he had obviously forgotten. Arthur pulled a face at him.

“Uh, sire?” the voice asked hesitantly.

Arthur gritted his teeth and drew in a deep breath before saying disgustingly sweetly,

“Yes?”

“Uh, well, she also told me to let you know that she will be ready for you to walk her in to dinner presently. She said she would await you in her chamber.”

Arthur cursed again and practically leapt off Merlin. How was it that time already? He caught sight of Merlin doing funny things with his eyes which he eventually realised were supposed to indicate that he needed to dismiss the servant who was still outside his door.

“Thank you,” he called, hoping he didn’t sound too panicked, while rushing over to his wardrobe. “Please tell her that I will be with her ‘presently’.” Then lowering his voice he hissed, “Merlin! Don’t just lie there laughing at me! Give me a hand you idiot!”

He held his breath, realising how harsh he had sounded… but Merlin was still wearing that ridiculous grin (and, Arthur was pleased to note, still nothing else) so Arthur released it and turned back to the wardrobe, throwing clothes to the floor in his haste.

“Arthur! Get out of the way!” said Merlin, sounding exasperated. Arthur stepped back and folded his arms – he didn’t believe Merlin could do any better… but apparently he could as within moments the boy had turned around holding shirt and breeches out in triumph. Arthur threw the shirt over his head and started squiriming into his breeches, while Merlin found the rest of his clothes. Arthur noted that Merlin was surprisingly efficient at getting Arthur ready when he needed to be and so all Arthur had to do was stand there and enjoy the view as the _still_ naked Merlin worked around him. The lean lines of Merlin’s body… the curve of his arse… Arthur snapped himself out of it. Now was not the time!

When Merlin had laced up his second boot Arthur snatched up his crown from the table and went to the door. He reached for the handle, and then turned.

“Oh Merlin, well clearly this mess needs tidying,” he started, gesturing towards the wardrobe whilst desperately trying to think of other ways to keep Merlin in his room, “and…”

“Umm, Arthur? Could I possibly just… have some time off?” he asked, hesitantly, before rushing on, “Not much, just until you have finished dinner.” He stood there, his face a picture of forlorn hope.

“Of course you can Merlin. Stay in here. Make the most of the fire. It’s not like any of this can’t wait until tomorrow.” Arthur smiled – if Merlin was willing to admit he just wanted to hide in here then Arthur would no longer have to keep thinking up a ridiculous number of chores.

“Actually… I thought I might… go see Gaius.”

“Ok,” Arthur shrugged. He knew Gaius loved Merlin as a son – the physician would look after him. Now he _really_ had to go. “Urm, Merlin? Could you please move out of sight of the door? I don’t fancy trying to explain why my manservant is naked to anyone walking past!” As Merlin fled to one side Arthur sighed and shook his head, smiling. Then he turned back to the door, yanked it open and tried to get to Morgana’s room as fast as possible without it looking like he was running. He wanted to preserve _some_ dignity!

 

*****

 

As the door shut Merlin bent down to retrieve his clothes, still smiling at the horror on Arthur’s face when that servant had knocked. It was almost worth them being interrupted… almost…! Merlin’s smile widened as he remembered how Arthur had touched him, how he had straddled him – he was fed up with being treated as if he would break if Arthur even looked at him too hard. He had missed that raw power that Arthur normally exuded during sex.

Shaking his head to dispel thoughts that would make it even more difficult for him to put his breeches on, he dressed quickly. He felt a bit guilty about the mess strewn about Arthur’s chambers, but Arthur had said it was ok… and he had spent enough time cooped up in this room over the last few days. He was starting to worry that… well that he was going to start hating Arthur’s chamber soon. And he didn’t want that. The only good thing to have happened to him… recently… was that Arthur had asked Merlin to share his bed. Merlin didn’t know how long Arthur would allow the arrangement to continue but it was _not_ going to be Merlin that called a stop to it. Which brought him back to the fact that he needed to get out of this room.

Pulling his jacket on and adjusting his neckerchief so it hid most of the bruises (and the bite marks Arthur had just created) he left the room and wandered slowly through the corridors – a sharp contrast to his journey through them earlier.

He had left the room not knowing where he was going to go, but he supposed that as he had told Arthur he was going to see Gaius (he thought that it was something Arthur might let him off chores for) he had better actually go. He trudged slowly down to the physician’s room.

Merlin hesitated outside the door. Rubbing his forehead with one hand he swallowed and pushed the door open. He was _not_ going to give in to the memories now. He poked his head through the doorway and looked for Gaius amidst the piles of papers and books that littered every surface. But he wasn’t there. Merlin felt relieved. And then he felt guilty for feeling relieved. He did want to see his mentor, he had missed him. It was just that he could probably do without having to go into that room right now.

Turning around he set off once more, heading out of the castle. He would go and watch the stars, enjoy the sensation of no roof above his head.

“Merlin!” It was the dragon. It had been calling to him every night, sounding more worried each time. But Merlin just ignored him again. The dragon could wait – if it was urgent the dragon could say so.

He nodded to the guards standing either side of the door and then wrenched it open. He stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of the cool night breeze against his cheeks. But then he realised how odd he must look to the guards so reluctantly he opened his eyes and stepped out into the night.

He couldn’t leave the keep – he couldn’t rely on his magic to keep him hidden at the moment and he didn’t fancy trying to negotiate with the guards. So he just sat down on the steps where he was. Tilting his head back he gazed up at the night sky, barely seeing the clusters of stars and clouds lined with silver by the moonlight.

 

 

_His box had been dropped to the ground once more, the impact jarring every joint and causing him to bite down on his tongue. As he felt the sharp-tasting blood start to pool in his mouth he heard banging and knocking around the edges of the box. Merlin had been torn between hope that he might finally be let out, finally see some daylight, finally move his cramped muscles, and fear that whatever was coming could be worse. He had reached down inside himself, trying to find any remnant of magic that hadn’t been stripped from him by his bindings – but there was nothing there. Only a sharp stabbing pain where the magic should be._

_A chink of light shone into the box, blinding Merlin. He had shut his eyes in defence but had almost immediately forced himself to open them again. As they became accustomed to the light he had seen that the box lid was being prised open and beautiful, wonderful fresh air had blown over his face. It became clear that the light wasn’t daylight, but light from a torch. Merlin could see the stars in the sky. He could also see the grim faces of the three men who had prised the lid off. Dirty and unshaven, their upper lips had curled in disgust with the stench of Merlin’s filth. A few hours ago Merlin would have felt shamed. Now he couldn’t feel anything. Even his fear seemed to have deserted him._

_One of the men had grabbed the collar of his shirt and hauled him up to his knees by it. A second man held a flask up to Merlin’s mouth and tilted it, spilling the liquid down Merlin’s chin and neck._

_“Drink it,” the man had ordered in a flat tone. “It’s just water. Drink.”_

_Merlin had wanted to resist, had wanted to refuse to do anything they said. But he had been so thirsty. So he had opened his mouth and welcomed the cool liquid that trickled in. He had swallowed as best as he could, trying not to choke, but still the majority of it spilled out of his mouth onto the box underneath him. Far too soon the flask was removed._

_“Please…” he had tried to beg for more, but the second man had shaken his head, saying,_

_“We have a long way to go yet. It’s rationed.” Then the man had turned to the other two, “Stick him back in. Let’s get going.”_

_“No! No! Please! Please don’t make me!” Merlin had sobbed over and over again as he had been lifted further up by his collar by the first man whilst the other kicked his legs out from underneath him. He had screamed and tried to fight his bonds, trying to wriggle free from his captors’ grasps, but that had just made the men more brutal as they pushed him down. Merlin had managed to twist sufficiently to bite down on the first man’s wrist… earning him a fist to the face, hard knuckles colliding cruelly with his cheekbone. He had cried out in pain and the temporary distraction had been enough to allow the men to push him down whilst the third man slid the lid on._

_Merlin had thrashed and bucked, using his feet, his hip and even his head to bang against the lid, but the men must have been holding it place because he couldn’t budge it._

_A banging had started on the lid, a sharp repetitive banging… they were nailing the lid down. Merlin had knocked his head back against the wall of his box as a tortured scream had ripped its way out of him…_

 

*****

 

Arthur wished Morgana a good evening and then headed back to his own chambers, anxious to pick up with Merlin where they had left off earlier. Just the image of Merlin lying naked on that rug, his soft lips bright red, his eyes wide and dark with lust, had driven Arthur to the point of distraction over dinner – thank god Morgana had covered for him or his father would really have started to ask questions! Although he did now owe her – as she had pointed out with a smirk and a glint in her eye. Hopefully he would be able to assuage her with the offer of a sword-fighting lesson. Knowing her though, she would ask for something degrading and humiliating!

Reaching the door he turned the handle and pushed it open. For the second time today Merlin was not there waiting for him. Well he supposed he had told Merlin he could take some time off. He wasn’t upset that Gaius was clearly more important to Merlin than finishing what they had started earlier. Not at all.

Unstrapping his sword belt he flung it onto the table, along with his jacket. He crouched down in front of the fireplace and stoked the embers with the poker before putting another log on top, reflecting that before Merlin had arrived he would have called for a servant rather than do the simple task himself. He really had been a prat. Not that he would admit that to Merlin!

Satisfied that the wood was taking Arthur stepped back and looked at the rest of the room. At least that was one less chore he would have to come up with tomorrow – there were clothes everywhere. He picked up the papers on luxury goods taxes that he was supposed to be studying before the next meeting with his father and advisors and sat down in the chair in front of the fire, attempting to concentrate on them.

Soon he gave up, threw them back down on the table, and started to pace the room…

He sat down in the chair again, staring into the flames…

He stood up and started pacing once more…

His patience ran out. He was going to go and find the boy. Snatching up his jacket he hurriedly put it on as he marched through the corridors down to Gaius’ chambers.

But when he got there he found, once more, a distinct lack of Merlin.

“I’ve not seen him this evening, Sire. Is there a problem?” Even as Gaius spoke Arthur could feel the worry start to flood through him. Where was Merlin? Was he ok?

“No, there’s no problem,” he heard himself telling Gaius. “Just let him know I’m looking for him if he shows up here.” He spun around and raced back through the corridors, trying not to let the fear overwhelm him. This was Camelot. Nothing could hurt Merlin here (he tried not to remember all of the times that statement had been proved false). And the people who had taken him – Arthur had made very sure that none of them were left alive to hurt Merlin. So he must be safe. He _must_ be.

Arthur rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. Where was he going? He took a deep breath, trying to dispel the images of Merlin hurt, of Merlin half-dead that were crowding out any rational thought. He had to think clearly.

Two guards walked past him on their nightly patrol. Of course!

“Wait! You two!”

“Sire?” They both came to attention.

“I need… I’m looking for Me… my manservant,” Arthur knew he couldn’t let his desperate concern show in his voice, “The idiot’s disappeared without finishing his chores. Have you seen him anywhere?”

“We saw him about an hour ago. He was heading towards the west entrance,” one of them volunteered. Arthur nodded his thanks quickly before heading in that direction himself, trying to look like and annoyed, impatient prince, rather than a worried, panicky lover.

As he neared the door he called out to the guards on duty there,

“Have either of you seen my idiotic servant tonight?”

“He went outside sire, about an hour ago.”

Outside? Why would Merlin want to go outside? One of the guards started to pull the door open and Arthur slipped through it, not waiting for him to finish. He suddenly caught his foot on something and nearly went flying – only a quickly thrown out arm stopped him from falling flat on his face.

“Ow!” a very familiar voice exclaimed from the level of Arthur’s thighs.

“Merlin! What do you think you are doing?!” The worry and fear that had been tying knots in his stomach were now turning into anger and frustration. “Why are you out here?”

Merlin, still sitting on the steps, looked taken aback, “I just wanted to… uh… look at the stars. And you did say I could take some time off.”

“Merlin! I was so worried!” Arthur lowered his voice to a hiss, remembering the guards just the other side of the door. “I thought…” he stopped as he saw the forlorn look on Merlin’s face. He ran a hand through his hair, “I was just worried. Come on. Let’s go back inside.” He held out his hand, watching as Merlin looked, almost regretfully, up at the stars for one last time before nodding and taking his hand, standing up.

 

*****

 

Once he was standing Arthur let go of his hand, ordering, “Try to look as if I’ve just had to tell you off again for being a useless servant.”

Merlin didn’t think he would have too many problems with that. If anything it would be impossible not to let it show on his face the way his heart sank as he walked back inside.

He trailed behind Arthur as they walked to his chambers, trying to shake off the melancholy that was threatening to overwhelm him.

 

*****

 

Arthur pulled Merlin inside his chambers, grateful that his lie to the guards about Merlin having not finished his chores would mean that none of them would question the prince pulling his servant into his room at that time of night.

In the candlelight his servant looked pale, drawn. The sparkle that used to fill his eyes had gone. Arthur wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever get his friend, the boy he loved, back and whole again. He gently pulled Merlin towards him, lifting his free hand to curl around the back of Merlin’s neck, stroking the soft skin there lightly. Forehead against forehead Arthur whispered,

“I’m sorry. Sorry for shouting. I was just so scared that something had happened.”

“I know,” Merlin whispered back, dully.

“I wish I could just keep you with me at all times. Never let you out of my sight,” Arthur continued, still stroking the nape of Merlin’s neck with one hand while the other still held Merlin’s, clutched at it as if scared he might go.

Merlin shut his eyes briefly before opening them again, looking at Arthur with such an open and trusting expression it took his breath away. Arthur pulled his head back slightly, and paused, staring at Merlin’s lips. Wanting to claim them, to feel them under his, but unsure if Merlin was feeling the same.

His doubts vanished as Merlin drew a ragged breath and tilted his face to meet Arthur’s, their lips meeting, soft, gentle and tender and so unlike the fierce passion they had met with before Merlin had been taken. Then it had all been heat and need and battling for supremacy. And Arthur had loved it. But Merlin’s capture had taught Arthur that he also loved Merlin himself. And so if this gentleness was what he needed, Arthur would oblige, grateful for any part of Merlin he could get.

As tenderly as he began the kiss, Merlin ended it.

“Arthur. I’m sorry,” he whispered, a guilty expression appearing as Arthur frowned at him. “Ok, not sorry then. But still… Do you think we could just go to bed? I’m so tired.” And indeed, he did look like he was about to drop.

“Of course,” Arthur said gently, leading Merlin over to the bed and sitting him down on it. He knelt in front of his servant and started to pull Merlin’s boots off.

“Arthur! You can’t…” Merlin started to object.

“I can do whatever I like Merlin. Prince, remember?”

Merlin still looked uneasy as Arthur chucked the second boot to one side.

“Seriously Merlin. You do this for me every day. Let me do it this once for you.”

He finished unlacing Merlin’s breeches and gestured for Merlin to stand so that he could pull them down, trying his best not to remember the number of times he had done this as a prequel to something more passionate. When he had pulled Merlin’s shirt over his head he turned his attention to his own clothing.

As he carefully slipped his breeches off he heard a regretful-sounding,

“Arthur!”

He looked across to see Merlin staring at him, or rather at his groin, with an expression of… sorrow? Arthur could feel the heat flooding through his cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter Merlin. Don’t worry. Just get into bed.”

Merlin looked like he might argue but to Arthur’s relief he didn’t. Instead he just climbed under the sheets, silently.

Arthur finished undressing, cursing his body and its automatic reaction to the sight of Merlin. He slipped under the sheets next to Merlin and curled up next to him, his chest pressing against Merlin’s back, his arm rubbing gently over Merlin’s arm.

Merlin was still awake – his breathing had not settled into the steady rhythm Arthur knew indicated him sleeping peacefully. Arthur wanted to say something. Wanted to say that it was ok that Merlin had been scared by being outside. That he understood that Merlin was so quiet and withdrawn now because he had left the safety of Arthur’s chamber and was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to cope. But he couldn’t find the right words. It was so frustrating.

In the end neither of them had said anything.

Eventually Merlin’s breathing had slowed and deepened, and Arthur had finally allowed himself to drift into sleep.

 

*****

 

_The box was stifling – no matter how much he gasped he couldn’t get anything but stale, fetid air into his lungs. They had been on the move for so long. Merlin had been thrown from side to side as the box shifted, banging over and over into its walls._

_They had stopped again for water. They had even allowed him to relieve himself away from the box. But when he tried to headbutt the guard in a futile escape effort they had kicked him into submission before locking him back up, telling him that was the last time he would see daylight. Merlin had not believed them, had assumed it was an idle threat, but now – he had no idea if it was hours or days later – now he knew they were keeping to their word. He was dizzy with hunger and thirst and so, so scared. He was never going to escape, never going to be free from these four walls. He started to sob once more. But he had no more tears to cry._

_*****_

_He felt that sickening lurch, that briefest of warnings, before the box slammed into the ground and his shoulder and hip slammed into the box. He held his breath, hearing noises around the box lid. And as the daylight started to stream in, blinding him with its brilliance, he felt nothing but gratitude for the men standing over him. They had let him out._

_Again he was hauled to his knees, but this time he didn’t fight them. He would do whatever they wanted. Anything for fresh air, for daylight. A green, divided skirt appeared in his vision and he looked up… into the smiling face of a woman. She couldn’t have been much older than him but her sharp, tanned features suggested a life of exposure to the elements._

_“Merlin. I’m _so_ glad you could join us,” she gloated. He said nothing. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise this freedom._

_“My mistress will be delighted.” The woman advanced towards him, holding a knife out in front of her. “You’re such a pretty boy aren’t you? Maybe she’ll let me have you when you have surrendered your magic to her.” She placed the point of her knife against his ribs and pushed. He gasped at the sharp pain that felt so much more real than the dull ache that throbbed through the rest of his body. The woman’s smile widened and she ran a tongue over her teeth as she dragged the blade down, slicing through Merlin’s skin. He could feel himself trembling but he forced himself not to cry out. He could do this. He _wouldn’t_ go back._

_A cry went up from behind him._

_“Men! Knights!”_

_All around him the camp sprang into action._

_“You and you. Put the prisoner away,” the woman ordered before striding off to direct the others._

_“No! No!” Merlin screamed over and over as he was returned to his prison. He screamed and screamed and screamed until the darkness closed in on him. And then there was nothing…_

 

*****

 

Arthur groggily opened his eyes, wondering what had woken him. His heart sank as he felt Merlin thrashing beneath his arm and saw Merlin’s face contorting with fear from yet another nightmare.

“Merlin,” he called, trying to wake the boy. Arthur tightened his arm around Merlin and wrapped himself closer, but this didn’t seem to help. If anything Merlin was thrashing about more now and he had started to cry out, every whimper cutting straight through to Arthur’s very core.

He grunted as Merlin’s elbow connected with his stomach.

“Merlin!” he tried again. Moving his arm from across Merlin’s chest up to his shoulder he started to shake him, “Merlin! Wake up!”

He heard a sudden gasp and then watched in relief as Merlin’s eyes opened and he looked blearily at Arthur.

“Merlin, it’s ok,” he said, soothingly, rubbing his hand over Merlin’s shoulder.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed, looking so pale in the early morning light, his hair sticking up in every direction. He shifted his long slim body up onto the pillows. “I should get up.”

He looked twitchy, uncomfortable. Mind you, Arthur supposed he would be twitchy if he was in Merlin’s position knowing how Uther was likely to react if he found out. The boy really needed to trust that if the worst happened, Arthur would protect him. Arthur would _always_ protect him.

“No.” Arthur trailed a finger suggestively over Merlin’s hip, “It’s still early. You can stay a bit longer…”

“No Arthur. I can’t… I mean… I shouldn’t. We can’t risk rumours.”

Arthur tried for a pout but either he was rubbish at it or Merlin was _really_ worried about the rumours because it had no effect.

Merlin twisted out from under his hand and clambered out of the bed, one hand trying to tame his ruffled hair. Arthur stretched his stiff muscles as he resigned himself to only watching the slender naked body in front of him. Such a terrible view he had – that tight arse as Merlin bent down to retrieve his clothes…

Resisting the urge to palm himself through the sheets, Arthur pushed himself up until he was sitting, leaning back on the pillows. He had forgotten how messy the room was. Well at least that was one less job…

“Merlin,” he drawled, thinking hard, “Obviously you’ve got this pigsty to tidy after breakfast… And then I’ve noticed that the table and chairs could do with a good polish… Oh and the fire has been smoking more than usual – check the chimney.”

Merlin had just finished putting his shirt on but now Arthur saw him freeze.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur… Sire… I can’t.” Merlin was staring down at the floor, his fingers twisting in his shirt.

“What? Why? I’m sure someone will have a brush you can use.”

Merlin shook his head, still refusing to look up. Now Arthur was confused.

“It’s very easy Merlin. From what I’ve seen it’s a case of shove a brush up and wiggle it round a bit. Even _you_ could manage it!”

“It’s not that,” was the hollow reply.

“Then _what_?”

“This room… I can’t… I need…” Merlin was chewing on his lip in between each stuttering attempt – a sure sign he thought Arthur wouldn’t like what he was going to say.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Arthur, frustrated.

“I can’t stay in here any longer!” Merlin nearly shouted, the words tumbling out as his eyes snapped up to meet Arthur’s.

“What? What are you talking about Merlin? You’re safe in here. No one can hurt you in here!”

Merlin’s eyes were filled with fear… hurt… and something else Arthur couldn’t quite place. He didn’t understand why Merlin should be so upset… perhaps…

“Look Merlin,” Arthur lowered his voice once more, “I know I’ve been giving you a lot of chores but…” He decided it was time to explain, “I just wanted to give you an excuse to stay in this room. I knew you would be too proud to ask to hide in here.”

“I… wh… you…” Merlin stuttered, stalking up to the foot of the bed with an expression of… well it looked like outraged disbelief.

“I’m too _proud_?!” he spat. “You think _I’m_ too proud? And so you’ve been keeping me cooped up in here?!”

The boy was now leaning into the bed, eyes flashing, fists clenched by his side.

Arthur pushed himself further up into the pillows, surprised by the sudden onslaught.

“No… Yes… wait… Merlin! I don’t understand? I thought you would want to stay in here. I thought you felt safe with me.”

“Did you EVER ask how I felt?” Merlin was practically screaming, his whole body shaking with anger. “NO! Instead you’ve been keeping me trapped up here! Imprisoned! Just like THEY did!”

Arthur tried to speak, tried to find the right words, tried to say _anything_ … but he could not. He could only watch as Merlin span on his heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

 

_Four days Arthur had been searching. Four days! And he still had no idea whether Merlin was even alive. So when he saw that woman’s camp he had charged straight in, his knights close on his heels, his blade slashing from side to side. He had been in a blind fury, rage driving every swipe of his sword. There was dirt and noise and blood. And then… there was nothing. All of his enemies lay slaughtered on the ground. And his knights had silently gathered around a box… a coffin…_

_His men had prised off the lid and Arthur had nearly wept as they found Merlin inside. He was alive – barely – but encrusted with dirt and blood and filth. The smell was overpowering. Some of the knights had gagged._

_Arthur wouldn’t let any of them touch Merlin. Instead he had knelt down beside the box and sliced through the ropes that bound his ankles, whispering,_

_“Merlin. It’s me. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”_

_He had found the clasp in the metal bracelets that bound Merlin’s wrists and unclipped it, all the while making soothing noises, trying to calm the trembling boy beneath his fingers. Arthur had tried not to worry when Merlin made no response, when he had just lain there, shaking, gazing into nothingness. Eventually Arthur had put one arm under Merlin’s knees and one under his back, before lifting him out of the box, wincing as he realised just how light Merlin was._

_A light touch on his arm startled Arthur. He looked up to see Sir Leon, holding a basin of water out. Arthur had gazed at it, unseeing._

_“Sire. Why don’t you clean him up a little before we take it back?”_

_Arthur had blinked, and then offered a small smile to the knight, nodding. He took the proffered cloth, dunking it in the water before gently wiping Merlin’s face. He didn’t have time to do a proper job, but he could at least clean Merlin’s face and neck._

_When he had done the best job he could, given the limited time, he had gently lifted Merlin onto his horse and then climbed on behind him. Merlin remained silent._

_He had remained silent and unresponsive for the entire journey home. Arthur thought that if he hadn’t held onto him Merlin would have slid out of the saddle within the first few steps. It was as if, while Arthur was holding Merlin’s body to his chest, Merlin himself was no longer there._

__

 

_*****_

__

 

_Arthur had waited impatiently, hands clasped tightly behind his back, jaw clenching, as Gaius examined Merlin, cleaned his body and applied a salve to his wounds._

_“Well?” he had asked, standing forward as the physician finished. And then he had wished he could take the question back as Gaius turned to him, looking as if his world had been ripped apart. The old man shook his head._

_“I’ve treated his injuries, Sire. They are not life-threatening provided we can hold off any infection. But… Merlin’s just not here. He’s not responding to anything. He doesn’t even seem to recognise me. Was he any different with you?” Hope kindled in his eyes but then disappeared as Arthur shook his head._

_Gaius had turned back to Merlin, shoulders sagging, and Arthur had gone back to desperately trying to stop himself from running up to the boy and holding him tight to his chest._

__

 

_Gaius had finally disappeared, leaving Arthur with strict instructions to call him if there was any change. Finally alone, Arthur moved to sit beside Merlin, grasping the boy’s slender hand in his own. He studied Merlin’s face, looking for any sign of… of anything. But Merlin had just stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing._

_“Merlin,” Arthur had cried. “Merlin. Please come back to me.”_

_But there had been no answer, no response, to either the words or the hot tears that were falling from Arthur’s eyes._

_Arthur had tried pleading, begging, commanding, but all to no effect, so in the end he had sat there silently as the candles burned low, desperately hoping for any sign of change, desperately praying that he had not lost the boy he loved so much._

__

 

__

 

_He had noticed that it was falling dark outside, had realised he should leave – he was due to dine with his father and the hunting lie had been far too tenuous for him to risk being late. He had looked down at Merlin one last time, stroking his soft dark hair with his free hand._

_“Merlin,” he had whispered. “Please come home.”_

_And with that he had leant down, closing his eyes, and placed a soft kiss on Merlin’s lips._

_The gasp from underneath his lips had shocked him. He had snapped his eyes open to see Merlin looking at him for the first time since Arthur had found him, pain and fear etched across his face._

_“Arthur!” He had cried hoarsely. “Arthur! It _is_ you! Oh Arthur!” he had babbled as the tears started to roll down his cheeks._

_Arthur had wrapped his arms around the boy and held him as Merlin had sobbed hysterically._

_“Sssh Merlin. No one can hurt you now…”_

And Arthur knew. Knew now what Merlin had meant. Knew now that someone could still hurt Merlin. That _he_ could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to the [](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**kinkme_merlin**](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/) prompt _Merlin has been captured by someone/something and confined in a small space. When Arthur gets him back, he cannot let Merlin out of his sight and keeps Merlin in his room doing tons of chores or keeps Merlin very close by at all times. Merlin feels like he is being contained, much like his captors did, and needs to get away._

**Title:** Claustrophobic  
 **Author:** et_cetera55  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Warnings:** Descriptions of panic attacks, confined spaces, explicit sexual encounters  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Word count:** ~15,000  
 **Disclaimer:** I don’t own either of the boys (but yay for BBC and Shine who brought them to us).  


 

  
Merlin found himself standing, staring at Gaius’ door through his tears, too scared to go in but with nowhere else to turn. He hadn’t even been aware this was where he was heading toward – he had just slammed the door behind him and run. Run from that room, from the rage that had sprung in him, seemingly from nowhere, from the hurt written across Arthur’s face, because of him.

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying to think, trying to work out where he could go from here. But he couldn’t think of anywhere, he couldn’t think at all. Still wiping his eyes he gave in to his trembling legs and sank to the floor, leaning against the wall.

How could he have said those things? How could he have compared Arthur to _them_. Arthur had done nothing but be kind and patient with him. He had shown a caring side that Merlin had only ever caught the briefest of glimpses of before. Everything Arthur had done, he had done for Merlin – even if he had got it wrong. And Merlin had taken all of that care and ripped it to pieces in front of him.

Merlin put his head down on his knees, shutting his eyes in a vain attempt to shut the world out.

 

 

 

“Merlin? What are you doing out here?” Merlin looked up into the concerned eyes of his mentor.

“Gaius,” he sniffed.

“Come inside. You look terrible.”

Merlin just shook his head. He could still remember all too vividly the last time he had been in that room, when he had woken from his dazed state, when everything had come crashing down on him.

“Please Merlin. Please come inside.”

Merlin looked up again to see Gaius leaning down over him, worry lining his every feature. And he decided he would just have to face the memories. He had already hurt one of the few people he cared most about in the world… he _wasn’t_ going to hurt a second.

Taking a deep breath and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve he hauled himself to his feet. Gaius placed an arm across his shoulders and started to steer Merlin inside.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold he was assaulted by a tumult of memories and emotions…

_Arthur had been there. He remembered Arthur holding him close, but the memory was as vague as a dream on waking. Far more vivid was the memory of the terror he had felt, unable to believe he was finally safe. His eyes had darted around the room, expecting to see the box – every time he had had hope of release it had been destroyed, why should now be any different? But there was no box in sight… And somehow that had made things worse. His sobs had turned into gasps and chokes as he struggled to breathe past the fear clamped around his chest._

_Gaius was now standing above him, his lips moving with words Merlin couldn’t hear. Merlin had looked back to Arthur. It had been the solitary tear trickling down the prince’s face that had stopped his jerking breaths, forced him to calm ever so slightly. He hadn’t wanted to upset Arthur._

_His eyes never leaving the prince’s he tuned into Arthur’s soothing voice, finally able to hear what he was saying. He followed Arthur’s instructions, breathing in and out when told to, and if sometimes an extra, choked breath had snuck in, Arthur hadn’t seemed to mind._

_At some point Arthur had hugged him close. Something which had confused Merlin in his already bewildered state – Gaius was in the room… And then Arthur had left, leaving Merlin to sink back onto the cot, drained and exhausted._

“Merlin. Merlin?”

Gaius’ voice pulled him back to the present moment. He shook his head,

“Sorry Gaius, I just…”

“I know Merlin,” Gaius interrupted, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder gently. “It must be difficult. Just take your time.”

Gaius let go of him and moved to the cupboard where Merlin knew he stored his wine.

“A drink?” the old man offered.

Merlin was surprised. Arthur had not let him have any since… He had said he’d seen too many men try to drown their sorrows with the stuff who ended up drowning themselves. Merlin had been frustrated by that too – the prince was taking up his every waking moment with chores, he should at least be allowed a drink. But now, well perhaps he was starting to appreciate the sentiment behind the over-protectiveness, even if he didn’t think much of the way it was expressed.

Gaius was still holding the full cup towards him.

“No. Thanks Gaius.”

Gaius gave a small smile at that. Had that been a test? Had he just passed? Steeling himself, Merlin decided that he could brave walking further into the room. He moved to sit opposite Gaius at the table, grateful that the tears had finally stopped. He picked up a nearby flask and started rolling it back and forth between his hands, feeling the tension growing with the silence. Gaius broke it,

“So… how is your magic now?”

Merlin had been expecting Gaius to ask why he had found Merlin in a sobbing ball outside his room, and had been trying to think of a way to answer it that didn’t reveal to his mentor the despicable way he had behaved to Arthur, so the question surprised him.

“Uh… Oh… Well I think it is coming back. It still hurts – in that place inside me where it used to be. But less every day.” Merlin could still feel worry threading through him every time he considered the possibility that his magic might not come back fully – but Gaius seemed to think the effects of the bindings would only be temporary. Merlin just had to hope he was right.

Silence again, but this time it was Merlin who broke it.

“Sorry I’ve not been to see you Gaius. I did try yesterday…” He should have tried before that. He shouldn’t have given up when he did just because Gaius was out. He shouldn’t be forgiven as easily as Gaius was telling him he was. He had never considered himself particularly selfish before, but now…

Before he knew it he was telling Gaius everything, baring his heart to his mentor, the tears – so quick to fall recently – had started once more, and Gaius was listening – not trying to pacify him with platitudes – just listening…

 

*****

 

If any of the knights had noticed that Arthur was pushing them and himself harder and faster than normal they had chosen not to mention it. Arthur had challenged each knight in turn, seeking the pain that he thought somehow might assuage his guilt – but it had escaped him. His black despair seemed only to improve his agility, his speed, his strength. He should cruelly hurt his servant more often, Arthur thought darkly, if this was the effect it had on his ability. And then he felt sick for having such a despicable thought.

The momentary distraction gave Sir Gawain the opportunity to land a blow on his forearm. The blade glanced harmlessly off the mail but the shock of the impact caused Arthur to drop his sword and suddenly Gawain’s blade was at his throat and the fight was over. Nodding his praise to the knight he stalked off the field, giving orders for the knights to start their routine drill.

Sir Leon followed him,

“Sire?”

Arthur took his helmet off and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t think he could bear the sympathetic look on the knight’s face – he didn’t deserve such concern.

“Sire?” Leon repeated, “Is there something… Can I…” the normally confident knight was clearly floundering. Arthur cut him off,

“Thank you Leon, but I’m fine. Go back to your training.”

Leon looked like he wanted to argue with that but Arthur turned on his best impression of his father’s authoritative gaze and that seemed to quell the knight as he turned around and walked slowly back to the field. Sometimes Arthur wondered just how like his father he was. There were times when he found himself bitterly wondering whether similarity was something he really wanted to aim for.

Dragging his attention back to the field he hollered pointers to some of the knights who were flagging and tried desperately to concentrate on the training session, tried to block out Merlin’s final words which still echoed round his head.

_“You’ve been keeping me trapped up here! Imprisoned! Just like THEY did!”_

 

*****

 

Merlin had put this off all day but he could not avoid it any longer. He had to apologise to Arthur, explain that his words were his anger talking and beg for forgiveness. Hand trembling slightly, he knocked on Arthur’s chamber door and waited.

“Come,” was the dull, lifeless response.

Merlin hesitated, screwing his courage up, and then pushed the door open. Arthur had his back to him, standing over by the window, staring out of it.

“Whatever it is,” the prince said in that same flat, emotionless tone, “Get on with it and go.”

Merlin stepped quietly inside and shut the door behind him.

“Arthur,” he said, in a hushed tone.

The prince froze for an instant and then span around.

“Merlin?” he half-spoke, half-whispered, as if astonished that he could be there.

Merlin had to swallow back the lump that had risen in his throat at the sight of his prince, eyes red and bloodshot, face paler than parchment. They stood there: Arthur in the window, motionless; Merlin in front of the door, hands twisting over and over in the hem of his shirt. Neither said a word.

Eventually Merlin drew in a ragged breath and opened his mouth to speak.

“Merlin.” Arthur got there first, Merlin’s name sounding soft and urgent on the prince’s tongue. Merlin waited.

“Merlin,” Arthur began again, stepping forwards. He crossed half the distance that separated them and then stopped suddenly, seeming unsure about whether to move any closer to Merlin. Merlin remained where he was.

“I want… I need to apologise for what I’ve done Merlin,” he stopped again, as if unsure what to say next. Merlin cut him off.

“Sire. I… I see now you were trying to protect me. I’m sorry, so sorry for what I said this morning. I never meant…” Merlin shook his head – he had rehearsed the speech so well but now he was here the words wouldn’t come out properly. “You’re not like them. Not like them at all,” the words came out in a rush.

He forced himself to look up into Arthur’s eyes, willing the prince to understand what he was trying so feebly to say. Arthur held his pleading gaze for a moment, but then turned away, walking to the fireplace and leaning over it, fists pressed onto the stonework in that stance Merlin knew so well.

“No Merlin,” the command came low and insistent. “No. I will not let you take the blame for this.”

 

 

Arthur pushed his fists harder against the stone, welcoming the slight graze it earned him. He couldn’t turn to face Merlin, couldn’t bear to see the hurt and pain still there on the boy’s face, knowing it was there because of him. He continued,

“I just made assumptions about how you must be feeling. I never asked – just assumed like I always do that I was right, that I knew best.” He wondered if he sounded as bitter as he felt.

“And I _hurt_ you! I made you feel _worse_! All because I wanted to keep you close to me, because _I_ couldn’t handle losing you again, because _my_ life would be worth nothing without you. Selfish! So selfish!” He pressed his head against the cool stone, screwing up his eyes in disgust with himself.

He was startled by a hand placed gently on his shoulder.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, sounding… awed. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you felt like that. I thought I was just another… well…”

Arthur pressed his head harder into the wall – he couldn’t even get that right. Merlin had thought he was just another in a long line of the prince’s playthings. Arthur had tried to convey it with his actions, (his stupid, misguided actions), but he had never been brave enough to say it out loud – Merlin was the centre of Arthur’s world.

“Arthur! I’m so sorry. Please will you forgive me?”

At that Arthur turned his head towards Merlin – had Merlin _still_ not realised he had _nothing_ to apologise for?

“Stop saying that!” Arthur begged. “Please! Stop apologising when it’s all my fault! Stop trying to make me feel better!” He looked down at the floor, shaking his head, “I don’t deserve it!”

 

 

Merlin stared at Arthur. He had never seen the prince look so… fragile. He half reached out an arm. He wanted to wipe away the wetness glistening on Arthur’s cheek. He wanted to wrap him tight in a hug and comfort Arthur the way Arthur had comforted him. But their relationship felt too brittle at the moment to take such an intimate step uninvited. So instead he lowered his arm and tried to reach out with his voice.

“Arthur. You were trying to help. I don’t blame you for _anything_. Trust me on this.”

Arthur looked up at that, looked up and turned his whole body towards Merlin, moving away from the fireplace, moving closer to Merlin. So close. Merlin watched as Arthur’s eyes finally met his.

“I trust you Merlin.”

It was little more than a ragged whisper but Merlin still heard. They were so close he could feel Arthur’s breath ghosting across his face as he said the words. Merlin could hold himself back no longer. He raised a hand to his prince’s face and rubbed a thumb over his cheek, wiping away the moisture that still glistened there. Arthur looked at him with disbelieving eyes.

“I don’t deserve you, Merlin,” he whispered, almost despairingly.

Merlin replied to that by leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss on Arthur’s lips. Suddenly he found himself wrapped tightly in Arthur’s arms, one of the prince’s hands threading through Merlin's hair while the other was planted firmly in the small of Merlin’s back, and his lips being assaulted by Arthur’s tongue. Merlin opened his mouth slightly and felt a small thrill shoot through him as the prince let out a soft moan before darting his tongue into Merlin’s mouth.

Now it was Merlin’s turn to moan as Arthur’s tongue twisted over his own, slowly, firmly, - an unspoken promise of things to come.

When Arthur pulled back a fraction, his breath now coming fast and shallow, Merlin couldn’t help but gaze at the prince’s lips, flushed bright red, his eyes dark with want, staring so intently at Merlin.

Merlin swallowed.

Arthur must have noticed because his eyes flickered down to Merlin’s throat. Merlin could do nothing but tilt his head back and whimper softly as Arthur’s lips followed his gaze and he started to place hot, wet kisses just under Merlin’s jawline. Arthur trailed them slowly down Merlin’s neck, all the while pulling Merlin’s body tight into his own so their hips met, Arthur’s groin moving tantalisingly against Merlin’s. Merlin moved one hand to cup Arthur’s arse, pulling the prince even tighter against him, shifting his own hips slightly and groaning with frustration as the friction wasn’t enough.

“Arthur!” he moaned in between gasps. “Please!”

Arthur drew in a sharp breath, but quickly returned to Merlin’s neck, moving lower now. Merlin felt his legs go weak as Arthur turned his attention to Merlin’s collarbone, no longer just kissing but now running his teeth gently over Merlin’s skin, licking and sucking as he went.

Merlin closed his eyes, revelling in the touch of Arthur against his skin, the musty smell of his prince – so familiar and yet still so arousing. It was almost overwhelming, being the whole focus of Arthur’s attention, having Arthur concentrate on his pleasure and his pleasure alone, so when Arthur’s hand moved from his back to slide a finger inside the top of Merlin’s breeches it took all of Merlin’s concentration not to come there and then.

“Arthur!” he gasped, pulling himself back from the prince slightly, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath, tried to pull himself back from the edge. Arthur loosened his grip fractionally, but didn’t stop running that finger against Merlin’s skin.

The prince’s hair was mussed up from where Merlin’s hand had rubbed through it – Merlin had a fleeting suspicion that his own would look similar. Arthur looked flushed, pupils blown wide, tongue licking slowly, teasingly across his teeth as the edges of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Merlin had a feeling that Arthur knew _exactly_ what he was doing to Merlin. And that Arthur loved it!

Well two could play at that game…

Merlin sank to his knees, smiling to himself as Arthur let out an involuntary whimper. He was going to send his prince _wild_ with desire!

He slowly lifted the hem of Arthur’s shirt and started to place quick, fluttering kisses along the soft, pale skin, ignoring the growl of,

“Merlin!” that came from above him, and the hand that started to tangle itself in his hair.

When he was satisfied that he had kissed every patch of bare skin he could reach Merlin dropped his head slightly and started to press kisses to the top of Arthur’s breeches, pressing harder now to make sure Arthur could feel them through the material. He tilted his head lower still, now mouthing over the hard bulge, knowing Arthur could feel the heat from his mouth, even through the breeches.

“Merlin!” The call was hissed now, pleading, begging.

Merlin moved his head back slightly to allow his hands to come in and unlace Arthur’s breeches. As the material parted to reveal Arthur’s cock standing hard and proud Merlin felt his own twitch, still uncomfortably encased within his own breeches.

He looked up at Arthur from underneath his eyelashes, smiling at him in challenge, before lowering his head once more and running his tongue slowly along the underside of Arthur’s cock, from base to tip.

Arthur gasped sharply. And then Merlin felt fingers digging in his shoulder and found himself being pushed away. He looked up, a little surprised, but saw the stubborn expression on Arthur’s face and that familiar predatory glint in his eyes and Merlin understood – the prince had recognised Merlin’s challenge… and accepted it.

The fingers at his shoulder grabbed his shirt and pulled it upwards – Merlin had to follow or risk yet another shirt being torn beyond repair. When his face was level with Arthur’s once more Arthur moved in and kissed him, hard. Merlin responded, wrapping his arms around Arthur and parting his lips slightly. Arthur kissed him harder still, now licking around Merlin’s lips, now biting down on his lower one, eliciting a hiss of delight from Merlin. Merlin pressed himself harder against Arthur, returning the passion with a fervour of his own.

But suddenly Arthur was gone again, stepping back out of Merlin’s embrace.

“Strip!” his prince growled.

And what could Merlin do but obey? He was still going to have fun with it though…

Merlin slowly, ever so slowly, inched his shirt upwards, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s, only losing contact when he pulled his shirt over his head. Next he kicked his boots off and moved his hands to start unlacing his own breeches, trying not to show it as the gentle pressure of his fingers through the material sent waves of pleasure shooting through him. As he slowly pushed his breeches down and stepped out of them he felt a small surge of triumph as Arthur’s eyes finally left his own to stare at Merlin’s erection.

The triumph was short lived though, as Arthur’s eyes snapped back up and the prince stepped into him once more, so close that Merlin could feel the roughness of Arthur’s breeches against his cock, and when the prince shifted Merlin couldn’t help but gasp as he felt the soft skin of Arthur’s shaft against his own.

“Bed. Now.” The order was low, insistent, and demanded total obedience.

Merlin was more than happy to oblige, a thrill of anticipation skimming through him. He moved to lay down on his back, head on the pillows, one knee raised, trying to look as wanton as he possibly could. In the time it took him to get there Arthur had stripped, and Merlin gazed longingly at the toned, smooth body in front of him.

As Arthur stalked up to the bed Merlin wondered briefly if he looked as aroused, as full of lust, as the blonde man in front of him did.

Arthur moved to the side of the bed, quickly scooping a blue bottle of the table, and then proceeded to climb up, moving so he was sitting on Merlin’s hips, straddling him, Merlin’s cock resting against the smooth curve of Arthur’s arse.

Merlin suddenly had a horrible memory of when they had last been in this position, the night before…

“Arthur?” he asked.

Arthur stopped pouring the oil out of the bottle onto his hand and a softness came over his face.

“Are you ok Merlin?”

“We’re not going to be interrupted again are we?”

Arthur grinned.

“You’re not very observant Merlin! My dinner is already laid out on the table! _No_ interruptions tonight.”

Merlin grinned back and shifted his hips suggestively. Arthur held out the bottle for Merlin to restopper and then dropped it to the side of them. He knelt up and slowly moved down the bed until he sat down again, now on the top of Merlin’s thighs.

Merlin let out a whimper as Arthur took both of their cocks in his oiled hand and started moving it slowly up and down over them, the slick, gliding sensation making Merlin’s toes curl. Merlin watched, transfixed, as Arthur’s hand moved faster, blonde curls mixing with brown as Merlin’s hips pushed upwards into each of Arthur’s thrusts, desperate for the sensation, desperate for more.

“Want you!” Merlin whispered, and then groaned as Arthur paused. He looked up to see Arthur staring down at him. He could see concern battling with lust on the prince’s face.

“Merlin, are you sure?” he whispered, and Merlin knew the concern was because they hadn’t done… this since… but Merlin had been _craving_ this. He just had to convince Arthur…

“Arthur. I. Want. You. Inside me.”

He had barely finished before Arthur’s mouth descended on his own, biting and licking at him. Arthur shifted his weight to one side and ran an oiled finger down the underside of Merlin’s cock, over his balls – already tight with arousal - and further back round.

Merlin moaned as the slick finger pushed inside him, past the tight ring of muscles that automatically tensed at its entry. Merlin parted his legs and Arthur drew his face back slightly from Merlin, allowing him to draw a deep breath and concentrate on relaxing his muscles.

“Look at you,” Arthur crooned softly in Merlin’s ear. “All hot and sweaty and _wanting_ …”

Merlin closed his eyes and moaned softly as Arthur’s finger started to move slowly inside him, pushing gently in, before withdrawing almost to the point of coming out, but not quite. He turned his head to face Arthur, opening his eyes to see his prince smiling tenderly at him.

“Arthur!” he whispered. “More!”

Arthur’s smile widened as he placed a second finger against Merlin’s tight entrance… but did nothing more.

“Gods Arthur! Please!” Merlin no longer cared that he was begging.

Arthur captured his lips in a kiss, distracting him as he returned it with equal passion. It didn’t stop him from gasping as Arthur pushed the second finger inside him, stretching him further. Merlin shifted his hips, silently asking for more and Arthur obliged by starting up that steady rhythm with his fingers once more.

Merlin shut his eyes and flung his head back, panting in time with every thrust. His keening increased as he felt a third finger slide inside him, ignoring the slight burning sensation. Caught up in the ecstasy of it all, he didn’t notice Arthur had moved until he felt the prince’s hot breath on his cock. Merlin’s eyes snapped open to see the prince now kneeling between his legs, Arthur’s full lips hovering over his shaft. Merlin watched with wide eyes as Arthur licked his cock from base to tip, copying Merlin’s earlier action and Merlin hissed with delight as Arthur ran his tongue over the slit, licking the precum that had gathered there.

Arthur lifted his head, his lips still wet and glistening with the mixture of precum and oil.

“Ready?” he whispered. Merlin nodded – he didn’t think he could manage to get any words out right now.

Arthur slowly, gently, pulled his fingers out and reached up to the bottle, but Merlin grabbed it first, holding his other hand out flat and raising his eyebrows in an expression he hoped Arthur would interpret as, “Let me.”

Arthur must have understood because he pulled his hand back and settled down on his knees again, watching Merlin with an expression of unadulterated desire.

Deciding his magic was up to it, Merlin unstoppered the bottle with a spell and poured the oil onto his hand. Replacing the stopper, he reached out and wrapped his hand around Arthur’s already slick shaft, coating it with even more oil with smooth, slow strokes. Merlin almost forgot what they were about to do as he delighted in the way Arthur’s cock twitch and jerk to his touch, but he was reminded by fingers tightening round his wrist, pulling his hand away and pinning it back to the bed beside his shoulder.

“Merlin… I can’t… can’t wait…” Arthur groaned.

In reply Merlin pulled his legs up, knees bent, feet flat on the bed and pushed his hips up off the sheets. Arthur let go of his wrist and moved his arm under Merlin’s hips, taking his weight and allowing Merlin to curl his legs around Arthur’s waist. He had wanted this for so long. He couldn’t wait any longer.

As Arthur pressed himself up against Merlin’s entrance, Merlin pulled his legs in, pulling Arthur towards him, and tried to push his hips down onto Arthur’s cock, desperate to feel the man inside him.

He moaned as Arthur pushed into him, frustrated as the prince waited for Merlin to make an adjustment he didn’t need to – the slight burn was now totally overwhelmed by the pleasure that pulsed through him. Arthur seemed to realise that Merlin was already ready: he leant down, supporting himself on a hand placed beside Merlin’s shoulder, and started to thrust into Merlin, hard and steady, sending wave after wave of intense pleasure shooting through Merlin.

Merlin cried out softly with each movement, eyes never leaving the flushed, sweaty face of the blonde man above him, his hips copying Arthur’s rhythm, bucking into the prince every time he pulled back, begging to be filled again. Merlin twisted one arm around the hand Arthur had placed next to his shoulder, as if somehow that could pull the prince closer, and brought his other hand to the back of Arthur’s neck, scraping his nails lightly over the damp skin there, watching as Arthur’s dark eyes closed under the touch.

Every time they rocked together the soft skin of Arthur’s stomach rubbed over Merlin’s now almost painfully hard cock – the remaining oil on it providing only just enough lubrication – bringing Merlin close. Oh so close…

Arthur picked up the pace, thrusting faster, fucking Merlin, and Merlin could hold back no longer, finally giving in, clenching every muscle in his body and calling “Arthur,” desperately as he came, his seed shooting over Arthur’s chest. Three more, hard thrusts and Arthur was also crying out with ecstasy as he pulsed into Merlin, back arched, muscles straining.

 

 

Arthur moved his arm from under Merlin’s hips and collapsed down on top of him. Merlin lay there, sated, enjoying their closeness… until Arthur’s weight was really becoming a hindrance to breathing.

“Arthur?” he whispered gently.

“Mmm?” was the dazed response.

Merlin moved his hands to Arthur’s shoulders and pushed slightly, hoping he would get the message.

“Oh. Sorry,” Arthur mumbled, his words still muffled by the pillows. The prince rolled over until his was lying on his back next to Merlin, staring at the ceiling.

Merlin ran his fingers through the pale hair scattered across Arthur’s broad chest, wondering if he dare say it. Wondering if he could be as brave as his prince had been earlier in admitting how he felt.

In the end he didn’t have to be. The prince’s head turned, those dazzlingly blue eyes caught Merlin’s and Arthur whispered softly,

“I should have said this before. I love you Merlin.”

All fear gone, Merlin looked straight into those eyes, now looking so worried and scared, laid his palm flat to Arthur’s chest and vowed,

“I love you too Arthur. Always.”

 

*****

 

And the next morning, for the first time in so many days Merlin woke, not to memories of imprisonment, of fear and pain; but to memories of Arthur, the secrets they had shared and the love they had showed each other.

And Merlin knew that, although he wasn’t going to be back to normal straight away, he would get better, and Arthur would be by his side throughout.

* * *


End file.
